Scooter in the Sticks

Exploring life on a Vespa Scooter and Royal Enfield Himalayan motorcycle.

Large Format Photography

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Snowy view through car windshieldPoor planning had me testing my new (to me) 8×10 Calumet C-1 view camera as a cold front moved into Happy Valley bringing with it a drop in temperature (12F), wind, and snow.  But only needing one exposure I figured it wouldn’t be so bad even though the view out the front of the van suggested otherwise.  Working in large format photography requires practice and method and while I once possessed both ten years ago it’s not like riding a bicycle.  The new camera immediately felt like a foreign object.

You might wonder what any of this has to do with riding the Vespa?  I’ll get to that.

8x10 Calumet C-1 view camera on a snowy dayMy Belgian Sheepdog Junior loves the cold weather and was content periodically chasing the tennis ball down the hill as I wrestled with the camera.  Setting it up in a warm home is nothing like trying to do it when a biting wind is at you.  I could do most of the setup with gloves save for mounting the camera to the tripod.  By the time I turned the mounting screw into the base of the camera both hands were numb — not a good start to a test.  I was reminded of how I had to develop a process for riding the Vespa scooter in the winter and how the same would be necessary for the big camera.  I made a mistake just venturing out like I did.

The test destination was about 100 yards away — the tree in the distance on the far right of the photo.  Lugging the camera, lens and tripod (35 pounds total) is a chore in itself that requires some practice.  At least I could wear mittens.

8x10 Calumet C-1 view camera with 305mm Ilex-Caltar lensNot sure how old the camera or lens is or even if the shutter is functioning properly.  That’s one of the reasons I was doing a test though about at this point in time I was wondering why I wasn’t conducting it in my livingroom. At least the snow slowed a bit so I could spend some time composing a picture.

Belgian Sheepdog in the snowJunior is relentless and I try to imagine myself as such though my cold tolerance just can’t match his.  Each time he lunged into the snow to retrieve the ball he turned just a little whiter.

View camera in the snowFinally I had everything ready and made the exposure — 1/1o of a second at f32 on Ilford HP5 8×10 film.  Later in the day I processed it in Kodak D76 developer at a 1:1 dilution with water in a new BTZS (Beyond the Zone System) processing tube.

I was able to get everything back into the van without becoming frostbitten but was aware some practice was in order in handling the camera from setup to tear down.  Practice will make this much easier over time.  It’s like learning to ride.

The darkroom was pretty much the same thing — some practice is in order to streamline the process.  And the final result indicated the need for an adjustment in exposures and/or processing time — the negative was dense.  But it was a good first step and here is the result:

8x10 inch black and white contact print

The black and white contact print “feels” like what I saw — white and cold as snow blew through the air.  Because the negative was so dense the image has lost detail in the highlights but I suspect I can retrieve them in the darkroom.  This quick print was really to evaluate the sharpness of the lens and see if I could detect any processing inconsistencies.  So far, so good.

So, what does this have to do with the Vespa?  Well, my plan is to haul the camera on the scooter to work on a two-fold project.  One part focuses on landscape — man-made, social, environmental, natural, whatever I see while riding.  The other is a series of portraits of the Vespa in the riding landscape.  I’ve worked out in my head how I’ll haul everything.  The camera will be packed and hauled on the front rack.  The film holders and light meter will ride in the topcase while the lens and dark cloth will call the under-seat space home.

One step at a time I’ll keep plodding along…

Photographic Reboot

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snow covered roadWith so much snow and cold weather lately I’ve just not been interested in riding lately.  I’ve traversed this sort of surface but I no longer am interested in testing my endurance or skill on the ice.  Instead, I’ve been exploring my photographic roots and am spending more time making photographs on film and working in the darkroom.  A post on a forum this evening spoke of a “reboot” in life. That may be what I’m doing.

View at Saint's CafeSunday morning at Saint’s Cafe has been the place to validate my non-professional photographic life with the help and participation of friends on similar quests.  Everyone should have a time and place to confirm some things in life.  The hot chocolate and bagel is just icing on the experience.

Paul Ruby showing digital printsPaul Ruby has been consistently working and producing gallery quality digital prints from scenes from his life.  Seeing someone consistently show up with new work, regardless of quality or subject, is inspiring.  Everyone is busy with myriad responsibilities and seems to live in chaos so when a person manages to inject some personal creative expression and output into their days is kind of amazing to me.

Gordon Harkins at Saint's CafeGordon Harkins has been showing up for years now and most times with new work.  In his frustration that he’s not doing more I recognize my own awful critic that can’t see how much I’m actually doing myself.  I remind him of the output he’s accomplished but I don’t think he believes it.  I’m familiar with the trait.

Paul RubyPhotography is important to Ruby and his thoughts, words and gestures support that observation.  I often sit back just to watch and listen to the show.

Each week I continue to try and expose two rolls of film and make three prints.  It feels random and unfocused but I trust that it will lead somewhere if I do the work.  So here’s the latest from the photographic reboot:

Leica portrait of Gordon HarkinsLeica M6 portrait of Gordon Harkins made the previous Sunday as snow began to fall.

Kim Dionis making photographsView of Kim making photos of her snow-covered garden.

My Belgian Sheepdog Junior in the snowPortrait of my Belgian Sheepdog Junior in the snow.

So that’s it.  Three prints.  This week I have the 8×10 Calumet C1 view camera out and have been considering a switch for a bit.  The camera is heavy — almost 18 pounds — and the film is expensive — almost $2.50 a shot — so I’m still pondering.  Whatever happens, I trust the process to yield something good if I show up to do the work.

Just like riding the Vespa scooter.

3 Prints Project Resurrected

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Black and white contact sheets from 35mm filmI have a small gray notebook to keep track of the black and white film I process.  Entries include date, number of rolls, developer, temperature, developing time and notes on how the negatives look.  Sometimes there may be a notation on the subject.  Until now the last roll of film developed was in October 2011.  That’s when the sink sprung a leak and how long it has taken me to make repairs.  Obviously it doesn’t take that long to fix a sink.  Life just got in the way.

Slowly working through the backlog of exposed film and getting into the flow of processing — I had forgotten how satisfying the ritual dance in the darkroom can me, the low amber glow, the soft sound of water trickling through trays, the quiet disconnection from technology and distraction.

Such is the attraction of black and white film photography.

Leica M6 camera with Domke bagUsing a film camera is a different experience than using a digital camera.  I like to believe the image is all that matters but I know that’s not true.  A body of work doesn’t spring into existence without a lot of work and sweat.  The tools and processes involved not only affect the final product, but also the worker.  For me, film has always resonated in my personal work.  For the past couple years I’ve wandered away from it.

The Leica M6 has been a faithful companion for over a decade.  It’s simple and reliable, much like the Vespa scooter I ride.

Gordon Harkins looking at prints at Saint's CafeAt Saint’s Cafe this morning Gordon looked over prints and contact sheets, a part of the long sharing we’ve engaged in to help motivate continued personal work.  It’s easy to stop in favor of so many other things but I’m grateful that I’ve continued making photographs for myself for over 50 years.  It just works.

Below are the images I brought to the cafe.

Carl Ector at Saint's CafeCarl is a Saint’s Cafe regular.  I showed him the print and he did not recall me making the photo.  I remember it well; standing outside the window waving to get his attention but he was lost in thought.  Carl told me he must have been working on his Huuduu composition, a jazz-funk piece.  He’s a musician and concert violinist.

Kim Dionis in her Boalsburg gardenMy friend and love, wife and confidant Kim in her garden.  She sees everything.

Aleta De veau at Johns Hopkins Bayview CenterAleta, the youngest child.  She went with me to Baltimore at my last appointment at Johns Hopkins.  I think she was smiling because afterwards we would pay a visit to IKEA where she would acquire some furniture.

 

Other Forms of Travel

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salt on drivewayHaving taken a few days of vacation time from work provided the potential opportunity to do some more serious scooter riding with the Vespa.  Sloth, weather and bad planning on my part eliminated my options revolving around the Vespa and relegated me to other forms of travel.

Weather interfered on a few mornings as the temperature dipped below freezing and transformed lingering slush and moisture into the kind of early season road ice that can give a scooter rider fits.  Standing in the driveway I could see the remains of salt still at work and with my Heidenau snow tires still sitting in the garage it would not be a great idea to go for a ride.

Even if the snow tires were mounted, the scooter headset is still dismantled as I await some additional parts for the heated grips.

State College, PennsylvaniaSunday morning in State College, Pennsylvania, the view down Allen Street as I make my way to Saint’s Cafe to join fellow riders and photographers Gordon Harkins and Paul Ruby.  Neither rode on this morning either though ice was not an issue with the temperature in the upper 30s.

As the morning unfolded I realized that there are more travel options than I often realize.  And many don’t involve motors or wheels.

Saint's Cafe, State College, PennsylvaniaFinding and establishing rituals is more important to me now than when I was younger and the world was something to consume and discard with each new day something to experience.  I don’t believe my experience was that robust or unique but it was easy to romanticize newness and adventure in ways I don’t now.  The younger me wanted to see every sight on a trip.  The older me wants to revisit the familiar over and over until I understand what I’m seeing.  Can’t say which is the better approach, only that they’re different and where I am now.

Saint’s Cafe has been the place I return to on most Sunday mornings for the past seven or eight years.  I wonder if I’m considered a regular and if I’ve become a character like those on Cheers.  I don’t think many people know my name but they do recognize the yellow riding jacket.

Tea and a Moleskine journalEarl Grey tea and a Moleskine journal — part of another long standing ritual.  The tea has remained consistent though my writing has fluctuated in the past couple years as I’m drawn more and more into the digital bog.  Digital is so alluring and easy that I’ve considered abandoning the pen and paper, film, darkroom and more.  Some lingering voice whispers for me to resist.  Part of the ritual of being at the cafe is to ponder the meaning of those whispers.

Kodak Tri-X film at Saint's CafeGordon returned some of the Kodak Tri-X film I lent him to shoot the Penn State football game.  I bet there were no other photographers along the sidelines shooting film, especially black and white film.  I’m not sure if he’s an enigma or an anachronism.  Either way, seeing that film sitting on the table triggered some powerful desires to pick up my Leica M6 again and make the photographs that so faithfully fulfilled the creative hole that lives in me.  Everything stands ready to do it save for the personal hesitation I shroud in excuses.

Film is not dead.  Merely tired.

Paul Ruby examining printsPaul and Gordon routinely show up with new work while I sink into my chair as a distant observer who remembers what it was like to be a photographer.  The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.  Or maybe just over scheduled.

Gordon brought a lovely set of images he made of our friends and colleagues Stephen Dirado and Frank Armstrong at the opening of their exhibition in Massachusetts titled Regarding Landscape.

I can barely comprehend the work involved to produce another exhibition myself.  It’s been too long.

Greta Righter photoPaul also had a lovely set of images made over Thanksgiving at a friends place in the Catskills.  This print of his girlfriend’s daughter emerged from his backpack along with some others of the location. Paul is persistent in his image making and works hard to stay engaged with the camera, a critical component in being a good photographer.  He was working with an 8×10 Deardorff camera when I first met him and while today he’s fully digital his work sometimes echoes that large format approach.

Snow scene in Glen Spey New York

Paul put together this lovely composite image that for me creates a powerful feeling of that snow filled landscape.  I can’t wait to see a large incarnation in print.

Thinking about photographs and photography I realized that there are other ways to travel besides the physical act of moving through space.  Like Rod Serling often said, “You are traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land of imagination. Next stop, the Twilight Zone!”

Perhaps that’s where I’m headed.

Gordon Harkins at Saint's CafeThe signs juxtaposed against Gordon was too much for me to resist.  He would be the first one to say he’s always going the wrong way.  While I don’t agree with the assessment it was a funny scene.

Feet on the floor.For an hour or so each week the three of us exist in close proximity, sharing ideas, problems, stories and lies, all part of a ritual that provides me with a great deal of satisfaction.  Seeing our feet on the floor reminded me of the closeness that’s developed because of our shared interests.

Breckenridge Brewery Christmas AleI still don’t have the scooter put together.  I’ve not shot any film.  I haven’t accomplished much of anything lately.  I did buy some craft beer.

Alcohol is no longer part of my life.  Not even a little due to the medication I take for my ankylosing spondylitis.  My doctor at Johns Hopkins grilled me about perils of even sips of beer or wine and how they can fry my liver.

Right now.  Fast.  Badly.

My luck it would come at a time when the craft brews exploded.  So while I can’t sample any of them I do enjoy looking at the labels and names and putting together little collections for friends and family that can still partake.  This Christmas Ale was one of the graphical items that caught my eye.

So that’s the news from Happy Valley.  Hopefully by the end of the week the scooter will be back on the road and life will be grand…

 

 

Autumn Light

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Autumn near Galbraith GapJust a few weeks ago autumn was still amidst its fragrant, natural bloom of color and leaf.  Circumstance and schedule largely kept myself and the Vespa indoors engaging other worlds and foes.  But Kim, Junior and I did find a few moments late one afternoon to drink in the spectacle that comes to central Pennsylvania each fall and let the autumn light wash us clean of responsibility and concern, if only for some dazzling minutes.

On the way home from an appointment, the light guided our little car towards Galbraith Gap and a corridor of land recently acquired by the Commonwealth that leads into the mountains.

Kim Dionis in autumn light

Long shadows imply a rapid change in the day as the sun plummets toward the horizon.  I’m convinced the transition is faster in autumn and winter.  My camera watched Kim explore as Junior watched me, waiting for a tennis ball to emerge from a pocket.  Funny how attention, human and canine, can be so focused and connected among a group of people.

Kim Dionis, photographer

As the remains of the day began to fade toward dusk I watched as Kim worked with her camera.  She considers me the photographer in the family but that’s purely a one-sided judgement.  In the art world arena she’s sold more photographs than I have.  She shoots more that I do.  And her relentless approach to a subject is dizzying.  I’ve learned much from that approach though must confess I cannot bring the focus of mind or will to bear on any subject.  It remains a goal but I suspect I don’t have the intellect or obsessive capacity for it.

Due to a chronic medical condition her productive time is limited, strangled really, to a few short hours each day.  Some days less.  In any good relationship people find strength in one another.  How those are embodied are different, and for some perhaps unknown.  It’s clear to me though.  I’ve watched Kim struggle with loss and defeat, but she returns over and over in enthusiasm and desire.  In the autumn light I’ve had the chance to witness the soaring of human spirit and be able to say, “Hey, that’s my wife!”.

I hope I can offer something useful in return because Junior just wants fed, played with or another biscuit…